It was cold, too cold. Usually, Nagi woke up with your body in his arms and it was a good start to his (uneventful) day. But today your side of the bed was empty. Painfully, he dragged himself out of bed and downstairs.

He spotted you at the kitchen island on one of the high chairs, quietly stirring a spoon in your mug.

“Why’re you up?” He whined, wrapping his arms around you from behind and burying his face in your shoulder. “S’too early. Come back to bed, angel.”